Devilworlds

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Leaving Anaxes ​

Kiskla was not in her happy place.
All around her, various mechanical beings went about their operations tinkering and modifying things. Optimally, she would have preferred to man the ship herself, but the only Republic vessel at her disposal was the X-17 Liberator, which required a minimum crew of 20 or so.

As much as she was a handful, she was not 20 peoples worth; and her illusions weren’t so powerful that they could tangibly operate physical things. Therefore, she was stuck with the only other option of Force-dead creatures. Droids. As brave as she might have been, she was still somewhat nervous around droids and therefore was not in her happy place.

Nimble digits roamed through the last of her list, checking to make sure everything was up to standard. If her and the Chancellor’s calculations were correct, this ship was about to penetrate the atmosphere of their attackers. Safe to say all energies were conserved and forwarded toward the cloaking device to remain undetected. Kiskla herself was drawn so into herself that she felt minuscule on board this ship. Thank goodness Art of the Small was second nature to her. Just in case, beneath her gauntlets were two laufeyson bracelets which made her nigh undetectable in The Force. All precautions were being met for this mission, which was why she wanted someone she knew was
a.) Alive
b.) Trustworthy
with her. Hence her selection of [member="Darron Wraith"].

Verily, they hadn’t spoken any words since he’d appeared between herself and Darth Vornskr, and reduced the Jedi Temple to rubble. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t intending to speak with him, it was just that she was a little busy at the moment. He’d gone to make amends with the lame and sick after the downfall of Coruscant, as had she.
Did you know someone gave birth during all that?
Then, she had met with Chancellor Popo to devise this plan, but before it could be initiated (or while it was still formulating) Rosa Mazhar had reached out to her. Kiskla simply couldn’t refuse the kindness of her friend, and therefore that had been another hitch of distraction. But never mind, off to the Fornax system they go now.

Determined, she stepped aboard the ship and allowed the door to seal behind her. In the cockpit, she could hear the automatic conversations between the pilots and flight control. The launch would be fine, but she would take over the actual insertion of the ship to the system — apparently Master Wraith was already on board. Good, otherwise he’d be left behind and she be in this alone.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Bridge OF The X-17 Liberator​

Golden Cortosis weave bracers reflected off the viewing glass as he stared out to the view of the stars before him. Droids and the skeleton crew that was on the vessel whirred around in a symphony of efficiency. They danced around each other, and in the Force he could feel their teamwork. His field of responsibility was wrapped exclusively around the ship they were in, though his senses themselves were pushing towards their mission. Why did she pick me? Wraith himself had just recently been rescued from Coruscant after having been on a sabbatical for nearly a year doing work in the rim for his spirit. Still having been restless, he had come back to the known galaxy and found war on the door step of the Jedi Temple. The fighting had been fierce, and the aftermath even more so. No longer was there a Jedi Temple on Coruscant, his skill of Shatterpoint having collapsed the massive structure after it had been bombed and battled in for hours. The Sith now controlled the center of the Republic, and he was being sent to try and find their own capital with the new head of the Jedi Order.

Wraith was no longer GrandMaster, but he had fully joined with the Jedi again.

A chance meeting with the spirit of his deceased daughter had finally removed him of his burdens. In that secret vault deep below the foundations of the temple, he had let go of all of his guilt. Standing to his full height, his shoulders were no longer slumping like they had been since Roche. Failure didn't line his face, and his stony demeanor had broken slightly to reveal a smile. The cup that was his body was finally empty of every burden that had weighed his spirit down, and now it was filled with the light of the Force. His focus was on the future, with the past nothing more than experiences to learn from and memories to cherish. All the negativity was gone, and the two meter tall man now fully resembled the one who had been gone for more than two years. A few new scars lined his chisled arms, and his new prostesis shined brightly on the bridge. The new durasteel chest piece he wore reflected no damage, but what was catching everyone's eye was what was and what wasn't on his belt.

Gone were the two lightsabers that he had worn in testament to his lost friends, instead Mace Windu's hilt now rested there.

Turning to look at everyone on the bridge, he saluted with a smile and walked out. Kiskla stood out like a sore thumb in the Force, and he was eager to catch up with his friend. I didn't even tell her I was leaving, or coming back. A small pang of guilt briefly passed through him before he let it pass as he made his way through the cramped halls of the ship. While designed for men of average height and weight, the massive Jedi wasn't traversing them so easily. Many an awkward "excuse me," and "apologies" were said as he traveled towards her distinct signature. Finally coming to the hangar where he hoped to meet her, instead he was informed of the fact that she had already gone to the cockpit. "How does this happened to me?" Wraith could only chuckle as he made his way back to the cockpit again. Entering the command post of the ship, he made his way to stand next to her.

"It's been too long friend, thanks for bringing me along."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla was leaning on the pilot's seat, reviewing the coordinates and making sure they stayed as on course as much as possible, with room for leniency should the assumptions be incorrect. So far, blurs of white strips outside the view pane made it difficult to dictate or feel anything worth diverting for. Her concentration was interrupted when a familiar voice made itself audible above the soft mechanical whirrs of the droid army on board.

It was strange to be addressed as someone's friend. As it was, Kiskla was a cold individual. She had been when Darron met her, and remained steadfast to that observation today. At least she was constant. Although, she wouldn't be able to talk in so many riddles; he knew her secrets -- Mortis, Kiffar, all of them. Therefore, his calling her title was in appropriation.

"You've got to earn your keep somehow." Kiskla commented wryly, finally lifting her fastened gaze from the 3D projection of their landing point and transitioning to look at [member="Darron Wraith"]. There was something different about his posture from the last time she'd seen him (apart from bringing down Coruscant's Temple and putting her in harm's way from Vornskr's onslaught). She'd worked with him before, she could adjust to his perceptions and machinations. "Thank you for coming -- it's important this goes smoothly." Then she remembered the part about him saying it had been too long, and she relaxed slightly.

"And yes, the stars swallowed you for some time. Feeling enlightened?"

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] was leaned against the pilots chair, and the rest of the living and breathing crew had gone to do their other duties on the ship. With the exception of the droids, they were completely alone for the first time in what seemed like eight lifetimes. Casually crossing the distance, he sat down in the seat across from the one she was leaning against. With the back of the seat facing her, he leaned the front of his chest against the chair he was sitting the wrong way in. His powerful arms crossed across the back of the chair, and he simply gazed at her for a minute before contemplating her words. Instead taking the chance to study everything about her and just take her in with the Force for a few moments. Her posture indicated stress, but everything about her screamed that Kiffu Princess who preferred to speak in riddles and keep everyone else at arms length. Too bad there are no secrets between us, he mused as he remembered their flow walk and all the adventures which had revealed much about them in that time period. A gradual tension had grown between the two, and she had done her best to try and help him through a dark period in his life.

That darkness was gone, and so too was the tension it seemed.

"Well, I did that whole GrandMaster of the Order thing for a while and fought battles for decades before you existed." He chuckled at the fact he had been frozen for two decades, " I mean let's not forget I was a Jediscicle for a while." There wasn't even the slightest hint that the words wounded him, though he didn't look a day over thirty his life had been extended thanks to a very angry Sith Order. Fully at ease, he simply peered out the viewport at her words before locking eyes with her. "It will go smoothly, we aren't here to attract attention. If anything this should just be considered a covert exploration mission with a possibility at dropping spy drones to keep a tab on the One Sith." His words were serious, but there was no grave tone, simply him being matter of fact. What would have been an impossible undertaking for most simply seemed pedestrian to the pair of Masters in the cockpit.

"As to this whole what did I learn while I was away business, well I need to explain myself." At those words he stood and crossed the distance before resting his hand of flesh on her slender shoulder. "All I managed to learn while I was gone was that I couldn't keep running away. I came to Coruscant to find you, and instead found an invasion and had to bring the Temple down." A somber smile crossed his face as he remembered the months wandering. "I just needed a push to let go of all my mistakes, and I'm sorry you had to meet me when I was dealing with that. I know I should have said something before going, maybe you could have helped. Who knows?" He gave a quick squeeze to emphasize he meant what he said before walking towards the viewport.

"You could take a page from my book and relax though, if you're this worried about the Order I could have done the mission solo I promise." A playful light hit his eyes as he turned back towards her, "I do know how to handle myself."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla smirked at his recollection of history. Grandmaster titles were being passed around like candies at Hallows these days; she planned on making sure that title wasn’t defamed either. So far, she was doing an okay job — although she’d let her actions speak for themselves.

“Find me?” The blonde offered as consolation to his memory of the invasion. She transitioned quickly "Well, you did." It had been a dark day for Coruscant, and forced them from their homes. “It’s fine,” she held up a hand to refute the apology of his taking off. She was used to it, between Ben, Marcello and Darron the whole staples of her world thing wasn’t really existent. And Antares — he’d disappeared into oblivion when she was only seventeen. Even though it was [member="Darron Wraith"] who touched her, she still instinctively flinched. She still wasn’t the best with human contact unless she initiated it herself, or there was some forewarning — blame her training.

“I don’t think you do.” Kiskla replied when Darron insinuated that he could take care of himself. Her palms were against the top of the pilot’s seat now and she rocked on it for a moment, standing on her tippytoes before dropping back to her heels.

“I mean, you could, but we might be waiting months for your return again.”

Oh, was that low? Sorry.

“Either way, I’m glad you’re here now. Not to take your pages, but I wouldn’t mind borrowing a few snippets from time to time.

But for this, we have to conceal signatures completely within The Force.” She tapped her laufeyson bracers on both arms; one even covering the alchemical cuff on her left arm “Hence the skeleton army operating this vessel. They have an oracle that can see into the future and has the most peaked senses ever — all we have to do is leave the drones, get numbers of their armies, and report back to the chancellor.”

She paused, looking out the window. “Provided, of course, this is the right planet after all.”

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] wasn't one for showing emotion much, that much Wraith could tell you. She was one of the hardest individuals in the galaxy for the man to read, whether it had been in conflict or in a casual setting. She just wasn't one for telling what was on her mind unless she was specifically asked about it. Darron had at first been confused by such a mannerism from a fellow Jedi Master, especially one her age. There had been an explanation to all of this of course, he had learned there was much more to her than met the eye. After all, how often did one meet nobility who was also a Master of the Force? Granted the Kiffar woman tried to keep her heritage, tattoos, and inner darkness to herself. Wraith knew everything, so it was through that lense of understanding that he was able to fundamentally see through everything she was saying. Kiskla was saying she didn't mind that he had been gone, that she didn't care that he had gone off without so much a word or anything to someone who had counted on him several times.

Yet she was perturbed, and he knew it.

"You know, you keep circling around to me being gone." Darron peeled his gaze from the beautiful sight out of the viewports, hyperdrive was one of the few things that still got his attention no matter how used to it he was. "If I didn't know any better, you might have missed me." Then that playful grin came back, and he took a few steps towards where she was standing. "Or you just don't take well to being ignored and not really paid attention to, must be a royalty thing." All jokes aside, his interest was definitely piqued when she told him what they were up against. Wraith had found it rather odd that the ship had been unmanned save for the droids, it wasn't often that only two Jedi were sent on a mission of this importance without any type of manned assistance.

"Well, then guess I'll have to make sure to cover my tracks with the art of the small." His gloved hand came up and brushed some stray locks of hair out of his face before closing his eyes for a second to think. "So why not send two operatives with no Force powers? Do you just prefer to tempt this oracle with a former GrandMaster and the woman who leads the Jedi now? Thank goodness you didn't want to be subtle, because two of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy going to the world of the Sith screams low-key." Darron tried his best to not laugh, he knew why she had asked for him. If the whole operation went sideways, it was always best to risk your own life than the lives of others. He knew that first hand from leading the Jedi, and hundreds of military operations before that. Even when he had been a slave as a child he had understood that concept.

"So what happens if this does fall apart and we are caught?"

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla groaned outwardly. This was only a portion of the [member="Darron Wraith"] she was used to. When they had met, he had been a shell of his former self. Apparently, he'd filled out and was feeling tickity-boo. It was nice to know someone so presentably unburdened -- merely by ostentatious humour --(she knew that untrue) was one who protected her secrets.

"Combination of princess syndrome and being an only child." Kiskla admitted, giving way to a wrinkle of her nose and easing into the comfortable pool [member="Darron Wraith"] was actively soaking in. Therefore, she rolled her eyes when he pointed out the obvious flaws in this scouting operation. A Grandmaster's job was not scouting missions. However, the Chancellor had formally requested that she be the one to lead the charge since she had been the one who had tracked the ship via psychometery. A waste of resources would not be opportune.

"Let's not let it get that far." The Kiffar warned, pushing from the pilot seat and turning to one of the 3D topographic maps that filled the room and surrounded them "I wanted you because I know you can hide yourself. Me too -- and if anything does go wrong," she pointed to the planet they were supposed to be dropping the droids off at -- it was labeled Wildek -- "We scream bloody murder and reinforcements are on the standby." Amidst the flood of blue light, she simpered once more and glanced over to her partner in anti-crime. This time, however, she really looked at him -- but paused briefly at his hip.

"That's new." She commented simply, gesturing to accompany her observation of a single hilt rather than his usual duo he had used when they had worked together over a year ago.

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] was loosening up, that wall that she was so adamant about was coming down ever so slowly. He could see it in the wrinkle in her nose, and the way her tone was changing to genuinely playful. It was a subtle, gentle, and very appreciated change. So long during their travels and missions had she kept it up, that he had grown used to her being that way. It seemed that this mission was a do-over in a sense for the pair. Too long had there been tension for the both of them, and their own walls had kept them from knowing each other. Had they ever had such playful banter? Had they ever even just relaxed and talked with each other in such a casual setting? That time in the bar kept coming to mind, but he had been so awkward he had accomplished nothing that day but further embarrass himself. I was too distant, far too cold, and that is why we could never just talk like this. They were just being Darron and Kiskla, and it was refreshingly different.

Even if they were going on what could be called a suicide mission.

"I wish I had been an only child and royalty," Darron rolled his eyes remembering his time as a slave and his rather "wonderful" brother. Following her lead, he strolled over the holo-display and peered at it. The blue light reflected off of his armor and off of his sky-blue eyes. "I'm not screaming for any help, if it goes sideways I'm getting you on this ship and then I'm sticking around." Those words could come off as petty machismo speak coming from a lesser man, but Darron meant it. Kiskla was too important to the Jedi to be lost to the Sith. If anything Darron would be perfect, he could handle himself, and he didn't know enough to be useful if they captured and interrogated him. "You're just a bit more important," he raised his hands and spread them far apart in another facetious gesture. Her mention of reinforcements didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't need to ask. Should've known Darron, the Republic is ready for war.

A familiar trail of thought was about to form as he crossed his thick arms across his chest, then she asked about the damn lightsaber hilt. Looking down, he casually spoke. "Oh this?" Pulling the hilt off his belt he held it in an open palm and smiled. "Well considering my other two were destroyed when I shatter-pointed the Jedi Temple, I had to take Mace Windu's lightsaber as my own. I kept it safe in a vault I had commissioned when I was GrandMaster."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla didn't say anything regarding Darron's good-natured flashback. He had walked her through his entire history; it had been grim. It had moulded him. She had flow walked him through only a moment in her life, although it had stretched to even now; the darkness had almost impaired her duel with Vornskr on Coruscant and she was going to take some time to purge it from herself soon. Very soon, after looking into some of the archives into this sort of thing. She'd need Phylis' wisdom at any rate.

"We're going to be fine." Kiskla assured him, not addressing his chivalrous and heroic insistence, although she appreciated it and let it show through an ever-familiar façade of a simper.

It didn't matter how comfortable the Kiffar was, she was a well-practiced eccedentesiast with an infallible crust. She'd built a life in webs and mysteries allowing herself to be an enigmatic daydream for so many -- and yet all the while remaining presentably innocent and trustworthy. It was a delicate tightrope to tread, but she was a master balancer. And she would be forever -- she still had secrets that even Master Wraith didn't know.
And that was alright, he knew enough to make her feel vulnerable as it was. Not comfortable as it should have been -- despite his proven trustworthiness. "I'll pilot us out of the drop, and get us close enough to unload some drones to scout in various locations -- get a sentiment reading of the planet and numerics of the Sith army if plausible."
After she had observed his new toy, he answered her and a blonde brow arched. Perhaps when this war was over she could hunt down little trophies for herself too. Imagine the history on that thing -- at a sudden recollective image of an apartment on Coruscant, she smirked. He'd asked her to trace the history of some Neanderthaloid Sith via psychometery. "One of the my former Padawans is a descendent of Master Windu." Kiskla commented, taking the presentation of the cylindrical bit of metal as an invitation to marvel at it. As she spoke, she lifted a delicate hand and the tips of her fingers brushed the surface of the cool electrum meld. Her insatiably curious appetite was perpetually whet, and her openness to history meant that even with that brief contact a light consumed the corners of her eyes and the briefest of scenes played across her mind -- this particular instance would be the lightsabre's descent from the Senate building window, and down the ground of Coruscant after Windu's death. Fitting.

"Want to kill some hyperspace time?" The blonde asked, retracting her hand and replacing what had been a flicker of a blank expression with a curled and mischievous grin that was more suited to the Kiskla that [member="Darron Wraith"] had met on Naboo; except this time there'd be no blood boiling.

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s comment on one of her Padawan's being a descendant to the man who's hilt he wielded was intriguing. It mattered little, lineage wasn't exactly a true measure of how a man would measure up. Darron himself had superseded both of his parent's powers considerably and rose far above their own level. Wraith's brother had done the same, but he had spent his own considerable gifts on the darkness. Even the famous Skywalker lineage had fallen prey to such a thing, so Windu's line wouldn't be immune at all. Maybe one day, if I meet the man and he's shown himself worthy I might think about giving it to him. As it stood, Wraith was growing increasingly fond of the electrum hilt in Kiskla's hilt. It's grooves and surfaces were perfectly designed for the intricate movements that compromised Vaapad, even more so than the weapons Wraith himself had made. He didn't like to use the word perfect, but it really was the perfect hilt for the seventh form of lightsaber combat. Everything about it was just right, and it was only fitting that Windu himself had made the tool of the lightside himself.

"Want to kill some hyperspace time?" Her words hung in the air, and for a time he said nothing. Instead, he just looked at her. Kiffar were known for their skill at psychometry, and he had just given her an ancient relic. Realizing what he had done, he mentally chided himself. "You intend to go flow-walking again don't you?" It wasn't a question so much as a statement of what was to come to pass. If that was one thing he had realized about the Kiffar princess, it was that she didn't play games when she asked questions. There was always a reason for everything, so she might be insinuating she wanted to kill time. In his heart, the Jedi Master knew she had other motives that she was hoping to accomplish? "What is it you're trying to do here Princess?" Laughter escaped his lips at the word Princess, and he hoped the desired effect would happen of her giving him a foul look.

Crossing the distance, he walked over to her. Eyeing the hilt, then her, he hesitated for a moment before placing his left hand of flesh out there for her to grab. "Just no blood boiling this time?"

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

There were reasons she didn't want her inheritance of a throne known. One was because she didn't want harm brought to her people, as she was in a position of power and they could be jeopardized by manipulation. Two, she didn't appreciate the titles associated with royalty. When [member="Darron Wraith"] referred to her as princess, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she oft' did when irritated; but let it slide.

This time.

She intended to see how Windu had operated in his positions of power within The Jedi Order and his moments of legacy, while experiencing them for herself. Usually Flow walking was used to recreate moments the user had experienced, with the hopes of adjusting their perception of the time. Kiskla often coupled the ability with her unparalleled prowess of Psychometery-- enabling her to experience events she'd not been present at; and not even alive for.

When Darron physically obliged, she grinned and held the hilt in her grasp while slipping her delicate hand into his to begin the transition; thankfully the laufeyson bracers would prevent her reasoning impact on the force as she initiated the journey. Her usually blue iris' glazed over with a blank look, and there was soon nothing but a soft blue glow that radiated from her eyes. Such was the effect when one substituted their vision for scenes of old.
Within moments, the ship was filled with excitement; the violet blade biting into the bodies of opponents as it's wielder willed it to perform. There was a moment of nothing as Kiskla focused years and years back in time, reverting back to the very construction of the blade and the serene pleasantness of the moment when Windu mastered the architecture for his greatest ally. There was a slight gasp from the Master while the metal cylinder whispered it's secrets to her metaphysical presence. This ethereal theatre extended to the benefit of her companion.

Within half an hour, Kiskla and Darron had travelled across the galaxy vicariously through a legendary deceased Master.

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] small hand slid into his, and he gripped back softly. There had been a time when he had wanted nothing more than to hold it, but his own demons had sunk that. Hairs shot up his spine in anticipation, and he let the traitorous thoughts leave his mind. Clarity was what this sort of thing demanded, and anything else would just screw the process up. For a Padawan, it'd be excusable. For a Jedi Master of his ilk, it'd be laughable along with down right pathetic. A void was all that was left after he breathed himself empty, but he didn't let the Force flow into him: yet. Kiskla had to let her ability in first, before he could call on the light, and that was when he realized he was actually really glad to be doing this. Mace Windu was a man he had idolized as a child, Wraith had soaked up all the records of the legendary Jedi Master. The fact that he was about to get to watch everything about the man from the point-of-view of his weapon was just too much of a treat to pass up.

Kiffar psychometry hit his senses full on, and the lightside of the Force followed.

A cave, Illium from the looks of things soon formed around him. Dark hands ignited the blade, and he saw others with him. Success, peace, and contentment flowed through him. Images flashed through him of battle, and he could feel that superconducting loop. Darkness flowed into the man from a thousand other warriors, and Windu shot it right back at them. Amethyst strikes fought back against the darkness, and through the Force he could feel how the man felt at that exact moment. Something was sticking out, and it was making his connection with Vaapad that much more intense than what Wraih himself had ever felt on a consistent basis. Of course, certain battles had pulled more from him. Yet every memory here was just the exact same, intense connection that was simply mind numbing to those who practiced this on a day by day basis.

How is he doing that?

Then the Clone Wars started in full, and Wraith was blinded by the darkness. Battles were going on that matched the scope of the recent incursions across the galaxy, and the loss of life was horrible. Mace's heart was full of something, is that loss? Darron was merely a passenger in all of this, but he wasn't actually watching the events unfold. There wasn't a thing the creator of Vaapad had done that Wraith himself didn't know about, he had studied him that much. Yet, as the memories flashed, Wraith began to see a common thread that was making more and more sense. Another passage of time happened, and this time he was surrounded by other Jedi Masters as they strode into the Supreme Chancellor's office. Confidence flooded him, and that sense of duty and purpose Wraith himself had. Blades ignited, then the amethyst one joined, and battle began over the heart of the Republic. A darkness unlike anything Darron himself had faced flooded his senses, and Vaapad matched it's fervor in a way he didn't know the seventh form of lightsaber combat could. Windu was drawing on everything, and that superconducting loop was only growing stronger.

Darron finally understood, Windu not only served the Republic. He deeply loved it and every living being, he let that love empower him. It gave him the strength to carry on, and in that moment Darron understood why he had not been the same. This is why I never could fight like I could at Roche, his own memories of dueling Ashin that day flooded his senses at the same time. Purple and red blades danced, and then it was over. Windu had saved the Republic, and his happiness was boundless, despite his own guilt at having to soon put down a Sith Lord. Anakin Skywalker appeared, and betrayal flooded Windu as his blade fell to the depths of Coruscant along with it's creator. Images faded away, and Darron then realized he had a death grip on Kiskla's hand.

Wraith had thrown himself into it, and there was no way to hide it. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get that caught up." It was all he could manage as he let go of her hand and walk over to the viewport to try and relax his mind.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

When Kiskla fully submerged herself and others into this ancient technique, she became otherworldly. She could be flow walking and stabbed without knowing it -- the results would merely be a severed broadcast.

When an insurmountable amount of pressure was applied to her hand, she was largely unaware to the whitening of her fingertips and grinding of knuckles. When her counterpart pulled away, after watching the dismaying scene many Jedi knew all too well, a crippling pain raced from her right hand up through her shoulder and to her skull. She gasped, partially from the suddenness of [member="Darron Wraith"] pulling away, and another part being the discolouration of her hand. Her left palm lifted to cradle it's mirrored sister, and she realized her chest was also quite tight. She regulated her breathing and gave a final wince before shaking both hands by her hips, as if airing them out after a soak.

That had been wild from start to finish, hadn't it? Thank goodness it had been his organic grip, and not her cybernetic or she'd certainly be boneless.

"What happened?" The blonde asked, turning to view the back of her companion as he kept his eyes on the onyx and streaked celestial canvas beyond the viewport. They would be dropping soon. There was a tension that wired about his aura, but different than had been before. This was more focused on him rather than external factors.

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

"What happened?"

Her question hung in the air for a moment, and the Jedi Master didn't know what to say at that moment. It had just been gut-wrenching to see the man he had admired from the start pass, and feel his feelings as his life was ended. It had been terrifying to see such a powerful warrior taken down in an act of betrayal, and a staunch reminder that no man was unstoppable or immortal. Wraith himself had never clung to such falsehoods, and had often been ready to accept his fate. That's the flaw of being so talented, he thought to himself. Acceptance of the fact that he had grown to trust himself in combat, and his results spoke for themself, were shaken now after seeing the man he had modeled himself after fall. Something else had been in that vision of the past too, a man with a sword, who almost seemed unstoppable had somehow popped up in there as well.

Sky blue eyes just stared at the viewport for a bit, a bit of pain on his normally serene face. How do I explain this to her? It was such a simple question, one that he as a man shouldn't have a problem with answering. Frustration lingered in his mind for a moment before he just decided to be as honest as possible. He could feel her eyes boring in on him, so he turned to face her. "Well, it just wasn't easy to see Windu die like that. I've often contemplated and faced what I thought was my end." Darron closed the distance slightly, drawing closer to her in the hope of what exactly he didn't know. "Hell, I was frozen for two decades and I thought I was dead then. Yet it seems the end is drawing near for me Kiskla."

There it was, the truth at it's core. He was being honest.

"I keep seeing visions of a man clouded in shadows I can't stop. He's coming for me, and it's only getting closer."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Her light eyes never lifted from [member="Darron Wraith"] while she massaged her hand. The radars ahead indicated orbital nearness, and from her position, she Force-triggered the scouts to deploy. From their position, metallic drones dropped from the ship’s belly and toward their destination. The radars blinked happily at the deployment.
Finally, his gaze met hers, and his words met her eager ears. But she frowned when they did, her brows knitting in a contemplatively concerned ‘v’ when he admitted his thoughts.

The ridge of her incisors bit against the inside of her bottom lip, and her frown deepened when he continued.

“That you can’t stop.” She repeated, obviously doubtful of the statement. “..Darron..” Her lengthly limbs allowed the proximity to be closed when she reached out, lightly touching his arm (albeit covered by a bracer). Her fingertips felt the cool metal, and she almost recoiled. She wasn't a physically exerted person, even to her dearest friends, but she felt he'd need some sort of consolation without being deeply offended by a pitiful attempt. He didn't want her pity, he didn't even want her answers she surmised; but he would need a confidant.

“You’ve stopped much before. You’ve protected countless lives — protecting your own..” she didn’t have an answer. “Have you mentioned this to the Circle of Seers? Perhaps they could help decipher or pinpoint the origin of this.

You can’t admit you can’t stop something. That’s half the battle gone before it’s begun.”

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

"That's the thing Kiskla, I know deep in my heart I'm doomed." Her physical contact was appreciated, and he didn't fight the smile that popped up on his face. Wraith was finding it easier to show emotion these days, could it be because I know they are numbered? The though wasn't dark, but just him being realistic. This line of thinking was what allowed him to smile more, to embrace the days for what they were. In this state of mind, he could see all of his failures and victories just as they were. There was no needless beating himself up over these things, nor were there any regrets. "I won't bother them with what I see my friend, instead I'll focus on the things I can stop while they focus on stopping the One Sith." Wraith knew they would have stopped their work for him, but he would never ask such a thing.

There was a war going on.

With his Force senses dimmed, he had only briefly noticed that the ship had come out of hyperspace. All the automated systems had done their jobs, and he noticed that the drones had been sent to their target. Memories of the mission at hand briefly surfaced, and his priorities finally resurfaced. Stop the Sith while you can Darron, just let the visions come to you when fate deems it time. His true smile showed for but a moment at that thought, and he clung to it with everything he had. Just because his time was limited didn't mean he needed to pout or mope, he just needed to get more done. There would be no wasted time, every action would accomplish some good while he could. Many tasks needed to be done, many lives needed to be saved, his son needed to be found.

A grim look crossed his face, then left.

"You know, this was a good choice. Even though my senses are limited, I can feel darkness down there." Wraith walked to the window and noted the planets topography before heading towards the door. "Are we going to get this started, or are we going to continue to waste time?"

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

The blonde was uncharacteristically silent as [member="Darron Wraith"] reached his conclusion. Only when his inference of ‘The Show Must Go On’ was vocalized, did a pleasant simper grace her pouted lips. Kiskla had never seen any sort of dream that meant her death (directly). In fact, she felt immortal what with the infiltration of the Architects in her system — to which she really needed to flush out. They were becoming more burdensome as other tasks demanded her focus — but that didn’t change the fact that the youth never considered her own death in her decisions. She constantly worked to prevent the death of others, not once realizing that she too had the potential to diminish.

“I don’t understand this enemy,” Kiskla whispered. “They’re Sith, but they’re more than that. Their ambitions seem to stem beyond generating chaos. I think they intend to resurrect The Empire that The Republic destroyed.”

She touched her lips in thought as the shuttle circled through the atmosphere, nigh undetectable at this elevation. The Kiffar continued to ponder the next step as she crossed to look out the view pane, ogling the warm-hued planet for herself, instead of the topographic maps. Ceruealn lights and technologies could only provide so much, and she was hoping to gather a general, intuitive feeling about the Sith’s breeding ground.

“What do you think.” Kiskla said, dropping her hand from covering her mouth in thought, to folding her arms across her chest “-Go down and see what we can gather, or leave it to the Force-dead droid scouts?”

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

"To be fair my friend, the Sith have been trying to take the Republic down for a long time now. They were never the same after I fought Empress Desmius at Roche, and that's just the honest truth." A phantom pain caused him to grasp at his side, right where her lightsaber blade had gone through him. It faded just as past, the wounds from that battle had been spiritual. Sure, she had lost her title of Empress that day. Yet, Darron had lost his own title of GrandMaster shortly after because he couldn't handle the emotional stress from losing his unborn child. Funny now, that here he was, much stronger for everything he had endured. That day on Coruscant when he had pulled the temple down, he had finally seen his daughters ghost, and she had told him that his son was still living.

So it seemed even his mistakes hadn't been as grave as he had feared.

A smile crossed his face as he walked within an arms length of Kiskla, and he simply looked at her face for a moment. Her suggestion about what to do with the world below had almost not been heard by him. Instead he had focused on the way her lips had moved, and the way she pouted when in deep thought. How many times were you around this woman, and you didn't even pay attention to what was in front of you? It was a truth he hated to admit, she was often distant but in reality that was because he kept her so far away. Had you not been so wrapped up in your own pain, had you just been a man and a Jedi about the situation you could have truly appreciated her and possibly had something more with her. His own arms crossed over his chest for a moment, and he put his hand over his chin for a moment as he looked at her in deep thought. It wasn't over the droids though.

He answered that question simply enough, " just send the droids. Saves us wasting time, unless we truly need to go down there."

A voice that had belonged to his mother could be heard deep in his mind, a ghost of a memory forming in his mind for but a moment. "Son, you sometimes have to leap before you look. I know that's not conventional, but you have to have faith in the Force and yourself." Powerful arms dropped back to his sides, and he took one step towards her and he did something he rarely ever did. A long sigh escaped his lips, and he took each of her hands in his. One in his gloved one of durasteel, and his left hand enjoyed the feeling of actually touching her skin for a moment. I'm about to die anyways, what does it matter? That thought only gave him more fortitude for what he said next.

"I want you to know, that I wish things had been different between us. I blame myself, but know deep down I wanted more."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla agreed with the notion not to waste themselves as resources. The two extraordinarily powerful Masters were not as expendable as a few scout droids. As a result, the ship dipped upward by a Force command. She nodded in total brevity, turning to say something. When she did, however, [member="Darron Wraith"] was already facing her. Her large hands slipped out to capture hers and she stiffened involuntarily. It was something she was working on, but Kiskla was terrible at being physically warm. Even in a time of total devastation, she could initiate intimacy with even Rosa. When Harland returned from the seeming grave, she'd not allowed him to touch her either. She was just really, really bad at it.

When he spoke, it seemed to take centuries for the words to pass. A combination of childish impatience and anxiety. A year ago, she would have relished his hands cradling her own, vying too for more. And that's just what he was talking about. But even if the opportunity for 'more' had been grasped, she doubted she'd have reciprocated the desires capacity.

Her light eyes searched his face, looking for any tell-tale signs of a fibber. The Kiffar never took anything at face-value; constantly questioning the motives behind articulations. Though not a master of kinetic communications, there was nothing that betrayed Darron's honesty. Suddenly, she felt vulnerable despite him being the one with the admittance. The blonde youth realized that she didn't like being confronted in neither public, nor private. The first time Marcello had said anything to her on Mandalore, she had been so upset about the showcase of affection that she'd stomped away. Here, she couldn't stomp away and hope to be swallowed by the night. The proximity made it impossible to deny her innate reaction: Anytime someone was entirely honest with her she felt the need to be truthful in response. But that was not an easy task for the woman who spun webs of mystery in her wake. Silence hung between them uncomfortably as she met his gaze, mentally pushing herself into a corner. Her forehead creased slightly as she allowed her first reaction to manifest as a slow, comprehensive nod.

A small simper touched the corners of her mouth at the recollection of their inaugural meeting. It had been tense from the start, they'd both been at strange times in their lives: Kiskla content to be concerned only with the affairs of Kiffu, and Darron a bewildered and broken Jedi master who had lost what he believed was everything. Still, what was the purpose of bringing up lost causes now? Closure, likely. Forever the pair had treaded in open waters of wondering whether or not there was more to pursue. In the time that Darron had reintroduced her to the Order to now, she had grown remarkably. She'd learned that she was beyond adaptable, and became whatever people needed. To maintain this flexibility, Kiskla had come to terms with herself being emotionally unavailable to anyone who could be a compromise in the future. Despite how she felt. That was the bane to Matteo--Admittance was the first step downward.

Apparently Kiskla had a thing for blonde, long-haired, good-looking, super-buff Jedi Masters.

She kept good company.

"There's no one to blame. We met at strange times in our lives," Kiskla offered diplomatically, squeezing his hands reassuringly; though the touch of metal was foreign to her. He had been unsure of himself, and Kiskla was a woman on a mission now. She was drawn to confidence, and self-knowing. Perhaps an ounce of arrogance. When she was constantly fielding the concerns of others, she budded new ones almost as a rule; like a sponge. If she were to stroll a romantic avenue, it would need to be a rock. Unfortunately, for reasons beyond Darron's control, he hadn't been the boulder for her to lean on. "You're a major part of the reason I'm here today-- and I don't think I ever thanked you for that." She paused, not one for emotional conversations she offered a pleasant air "I think the idea of more is a lot safer than the reality." A smirk "I'm a lot to handle-- you have enough on your plate."